It's a challenge
by Hashilavalamp
Summary: Years have passed since the founding of Konoha and the village has managed to establish itself, but there remains the question of how to train the generations to come. Tobirama has come up with a solution and Madara is unvoluntarily dragged in as an accomplice. Now as the leader of his own team of young students, disaster is just around the corner. [HashiMada, includes OCs]
1. prelude

**Yoo, here I am with something new.**

 **As the summary already tells you, this story is a sorta "happy AU" in which Madara remained in the village, but the odds are still not exactly in his favor, so things don't quite work out the way he wants them to. This is part one of what was supposed to be a One Shot :I**

 **Enjoy, and feedback would be appreciated!**

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They had been debating over the documents in front of them for several hours now; ever since other clans had representatives in these meetings, they stretched on for far longer than they ever used to with pointless discussions and complaints, but even then no topic had been as controversial as this one in the last few years.

Madara's head began to throb a while ago, a dull ache that spreads through his skull in torturous waves, the pressure ever increasing. He wishes he didn't have to attend this meeting, in this stifling and too hot room, wishes he didn't have to deal with the other clans and discuss the same points over and over again, but he can't afford to be missing.

He knows that everything is already worked out, almost down to the detail. He knows because he himself had grudgingly sacrificed his nights to supervise Tobirama's scheming, slaving over plans and documents and resisting the urge to strangle the other, he's familiar with every step of the proposition, but who knows? Who knows if not maybe Tobirama slipped in another catch, something to turn against his clan? That is a man who cannot be allowed to work without somebody watching his every move.

He rejected Tobirama's idea when he first forwarded it months ago.  
How could he not? Allowing the existence of an institution of the village that would see to the education of shinobi, taking over the responsibility of the individual clans? That went against the established rules, that there would be no involvement in internal clan affairs. A right Madara himself had fought for and triumphantly secured. Claiming the right to educate and train the children of these clans was audacious, but Tobirama kept pushing, relentless.  
And Hashirama naturally loved the idea. Loved the idea of an open school in which the children of the different clans came together, overlooking the sheer audacity of what he was supporting in his short-sightedness. Typical, and yet Madara managed to be disappointed nonetheless.  
They wouldn't have his arguments. He was being paranoid, Tobirama said one evening as they pored over the plans for the construction of a possible academy.

The institution would not be leaning in anyone's favor; teachers would be taken from each clan. The schedules and education methods and content would be worked out in close cooperation; there would be no space for domination of one clan over another. No propaganda against a clan, Madara should embrace this step of bringing the clans closer together.  
"Take what you can get" was what Tobirama's eyes said, "take it, or do you want to be the one to be in the way of progress?"

It was a disgusting trap. Madara had never had the place to say no in the first place.

He watches Shimura and Inuzuka quarrel, the heated argument barely registering in his fatigued mind, words just drifting through but never to stay. They'll eventually agree anyway, why listen to their complaints?  
He feels the glare of Tobirama resting on him from time to time, an unspoken accusation for abandoning him in this debate, the only source of some cheap amusement in this stagnant meeting. Madara turns his head slightly and presents Tobirama his fakest and friendliest smile, satisfied when wine-red eyes narrow in irritation. It's your plan, Senju. Go and defend it on your own.

The discussions drag on, Hashirama finally springs to Tobirama's defense and the opposition wilts under the brightness of Hashirama's promises and smiles, clan representatives blinded and placated as if tranquilized. Akimichi makes one last valiant attempt, but Hashirama has the right words for everything.

"There is only so much generalized training the children can receive in this… academy you are proposing. Their skills would remain stunted. What comes after that?" Hyuuga speaks up suddenly, voice sharp as the edge of a knife, the man's milky white eyes fixed at Tobirama with unconcealed suspicion. Madara almost recoils at the sight. Byakugan. Too much like blind eyes.  
What is more concerning however is the strangely satisfied look on Tobirama's face.

"As detailed in the papers I have provided at the beginning of this meeting, after passing a standardized exam, the students would be put into reasonably sized units and will be taking on low-ranked missions together under a higher ranking adult shinobi. Whereas I considered Chunin for instructors at the academy, this role would be taken on by Jounin, provided again by the clans. And of course, the individual clans may still give additional training to their children" Tobirama adds with a surprisingly calm tone, considering that this point has certainly come up before, some time. When Madara pushes through the fog of his mind through the pounding headache and concentrates, he can feel Tobirama's chakra swirling and ready to spike. Agitated, but he's not snapping yet.

"Ah yes. How long will these teams stay together?" the Hyuuga inquires further, still sounding snide and arrogant as ever, the natural tone of the stuck-up noble clan. Madara never liked them. The only reason he accepted them as an ally was because they had bowed to Konoha's superiority and came crawling to them.

He tunes out again as Tobirama again rattles down the list of requirements to reach the level of what they established would be classed "Chunin", a speech Madara has heard and given countless of times back in the day when the new system was first introduced. Some people could never quite get enough of it.  
His interest is only piqued when Tobirama smirks. He knows this expression, has observed it many times in the last 8 years. He's scheming, he's scheming and at this stage of the debate, this can only mean that he's got an ace up his sleeve.

The white-haired shinobi stands ram-rod straight, and with a deliberate slowness pulls a small stack of papers from seemingly thin air. All of these are creaseless, fresh documents, the proof of betrayal. An ice-cold fury burns through Madara's veins at the sight of these deceptively innocent looking papers, throbbing with each new wave of pain crashing in his head and his hands instinctively curl into fists.

But he remains silent and wills his chakra to quiet and ebb down, he will not let Tobirama have this gratification, this knowledge that he caught him off-guard. He is too proud to be defeated in this cowardly manner. Madara accepts the paper handed to him with silence, ignoring the reassuring glance Hashirama sends his way, already busy scanning the careful and precise letters written on the page, soaking up the treacherous words with a stoic expression.

His eyes eventually pick up his own name among the sea of letters, and he pauses.

Slowly, he lets his gaze travel across the section, taking in the information with a sudden calm as the thoughts quieten. The world shifts into focus, the fibers of the paper, the dust motes dancing in the glaring light, the fabric of his robes, the screeching sound of chairs scraping over the floor. Ink on paper.

 **[Uchiha Madara  
Senju Kenma, Uchiha Amaterasu, Uchiha Seiichi]**

Tobirama starts talking, and the world becomes a little more blurry.

"In order to test this system, I have put together provisional teams, each of these consist of three students and one Jounin to increase efficiency. I myself will be taking on one of these teams, as well as Madara Uchiha and other previously chosen candidates" the Senju explains and there is a terribly smug tone to his voice, one Madara has become attuned to and he feels ready to strangle Tobirama. He refrains to not let Tobirama have his way.

The other representatives are agreeable, terribly so, cutting each other off to compliment Tobirama (grudgingly, in some cases) on his foresight.  
They agree because Madara Uchiha is included. They agree because they think "If Madara Uchiha has agreed to this, it cannot be a trap. If that man is agreeable for once, it must be good." Tobirama knew this, he calculated this.

And Madara cannot correct them, can't point out that this was done without his consent, because then it's him against the rest again. And then Uchiha would once again be isolated, and wouldn't that be just the perfect basis for limiting their influence even further, the chance Tobirama has been lying in wait for since the beginning?

It's sickening.

In the aftermath of this senseless debating, Madara allows himself to look at Hashirama to his left. He's let Tobirama take the stage today for the most part, and Madara's suspicion reaches a new high when Hashirama doesn't meet his eye.

"Hashirama."

The Senju blinks, and finally dares to look at him. His massive chakra is restless, twisting in guilt, Madara can sense it with ease by now. He's been betrayed, he's been betrayed—

"Did you know that Tobirama involved me in this without my knowledge?"

Hashirama smiles, the curve of his mouth somewhere bordering between apologetic and fearful, and Madara knows.

* * *

Weeks passed.

But Madara will still not speak to him.

The letters on the scroll blur before Hashirama's eyes and in a fit of rare frustration, he props his head up by with his arms, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. The pain from the pressure against his eyeballs helps him regain his focus, turning off all the other silly and distracting functions of his brain. He can worry about Madara later.

When he removes the hands from his face, it takes a second for the world around him to turn sharp again, little bright spots dance in his vision, but he feels calmer now. With a sigh he averts his attention back to the contents of the scroll, trying his best to keep his thoughts from straying because once they do, he fears he'll never get this done before the end of the day. An endless cycle of losing focus and trying to get it back.

He forces himself through the scroll, then another one, and then the stack of paperwork Tobirama must've placed there some time ago.

But even then, some part of his mind is going rogue and the unease is ever just beneath the surface, an uncomfortable prickling beneath the skin and a strange hollow feeling in his ribcage and his bones, limbs heavy and too light all at once.

Hashirama rubs his temples and places his signature under the last mission report, his usually neat handwriting a bit of scrawl today. But it's done.

So now his mind can dedicate all its energy to worrying once more.

It's not that Hashirama is bad at arguing, particularly not with Madara. He's seen Madara at his worst, has endured injury and near-death for this man, he can handle Madara as the demon others see him as, all of that rage.

But this? This is different.

Madara won't even look at him ever since Tobirama's plan was officially approved; there was no shouting, no punches, no raging. Just cold silence. He'd just gone silent and obediently put his signature under Tobirama's appeal, not sparing his partner another glance.  
And that, Hashirama doesn't know how to handle.

When he'd come home that day, Madara had already been there. All the personal belongings that he had carried there over the years had disappeared at once. Even the little bowls he had set out for the cats.  
It was a sobering sight, and the anxiety knotting his insides stopped whispering to him, because then he no longer had to worry that Madara had left. He had confirmation then.

Hashirama had almost sighed in a bone-deep relief when he spotted Madara later on the streets, even if the Uchiha would not acknowledge his presence. There was a small part of him, a small part he had tried to stifle many times over the years but which would never quite die, that still doubted Madara. That expected Madara to declare he no longer believed in this dream and would leave everything behind, any day.

The plan was that having a team of students Madara could care about would tie him down, that it would finally be enough to calm Hashirama's misplaced insecurity, a feeling he likes to think he's not familiar with. Maybe that is why he hadn't told Madara of Tobirama's plans.

Well, now he has ruined it.  
If not between Madara and the village, then between Madara and himself. That is, if he doesn't manage to get Madara to talk to him.

Hashirama gets up from his seat and walked towards the window of his office that oversees the village. He touches the cool glass with the tips of his fingers, the chill dancing across his skin, and frowns at his fear. It isn't like him to avoid a confrontation, is it? He had given Madara space to not chase him away entirely, but this was obviously not doing any good! Perhaps he has to make the first step after all.

With this resolution he sheds his Hokage robes and redresses in his casual clothes, as he doubts Madara would appreciate it if Hashirama approached him as Hokage rather than lover.

When he leaves the tower, the air has already considerably cooled down and the sun has begun to set, setting an almost foreboding atmosphere for his endeavor, but Hashirama ignores it as best as he can and decisively heads down the path towards the Uchiha district where they had first settled down.  
After the modernization that came with the new civilian population and the subsequent rebuilding, not too many Uchiha had left their little district. Madara's own house was still where it had first been built, on the outskirts on a small hill from where he can look over this part of the village.

When the small house in traditional style comes into view, Hashirama shivers. He knows Madara is home because even with his rather rudimentary sensing skills, he can tell that Madara's chakra signature is strongest here. There'll be no room for stalling.

The door opens before Hashirama is even close enough to knock and reveals Madara. His facial expression is indifferent, but the bags under his eyes are more pronounced and his hair hasn't been combed in a long time. Hashirama is oddly happy to see that Madara looks worse for wear too.

"Is there something you need, Hokage?" Madara greets him, his tone flat as it had been the few times they had been forced to interact due to their duties to the village. Strictly business. Just business.

"Would you take a walk with me?" Hashirama inquires quietly, because he knows if they talk across the threshold, nothing will come of this. He needs to lure Madara outside, take him somewhere they could be alone. If Madara gets angry, they can fight it out.

Madara ponders the proposition for a moment, before he nods just barely. Hashirama's heart beats furiously in anxious expectation as Madara slips on his sandals and joins him, walking just a little bit ahead of him. He'll be deciding where they go, not Hashirama.  
The Senju can live with that, he knows he'd let Madara lead him anywhere. Tobirama says that this is the problem with him.

He's about to open his mouth to talk when they reach a small clearing in the surrounding woods, but before he can get a word out, Madara already cuts him off.

"What is it? Get it out already" he says, however Hashirama perks his ears as the sharp undertone of these words. The anger is there after all, not just this cold and dead resentment, but the burning anger Hashirama is used to. Should he be relieved?

"I've wanted to talk to you, about Tobirama's plans."

Madara tilts his head to the side slightly, and a gust of wind blows back the hair covering the right side of the Uchiha's face, leaving him looking strangely young and vulnerable for a precious second. The moment is fleeting however, the wind subsides and the hair falls back, now wilder than ever, and Madara's expression darkens. There's a spark in the tense atmosphere.

Hashirama has only a moment to appreciate the way the Sharingan glows in the dim light of the early evening, the next second Madara is already charging at him with a raised fist.

"You let him do that! You've let him force me into this!" he shouts, and this time Madara's fist connects with Hashirama's jaw, his speed still outmatching Hashirama's. The pain registers, but this is Hashirama's greatest advantage to balance Madara out; his endurance. He doesn't lose his footing, even when Madara throws himself at him with his full weight, he holds against it like a strong oak, to bend but not to break.

Madara screams in frustration and jumps back a few feet, just to gain more momentum for his next onslaught. One of the blows hits Hashirama right in the chest and he gasps for air, oxygen suddenly hard to come by as his ribs ache from the chakra-fueled attack.

Once he catches his breath in a moment of inattentiveness on Madara's part, he makes his decision. Instead of further trying to dodge and tire Madara out gradually, he steels himself for a counterattack, striking the second Madara comes close again. There's no way this could have caught Madara by surprise, and yet, the hit hits its mark with ease. Blood splatters, red staining the light fabric of Hashirama's haori and running out of Madara's nostril.

"Fucking finally!" Madara hisses as he wipes the blood away and smears it across his cheek, "I thought you'd try to avoid this confrontation as well!"

"I wanted to give you space, isn't that what you always ask for?" Hashirama responds, lunging at Madara who just barely manages to twist out of his hold and instead receives Madara's elbow to the back of his head within the next second, and his vision blurs for a moment.

"I've told you a million times that Tobirama is targeting me, but you never listened! And then you go and support him, meddling with my life again! Just so you can fucking use me to trick the other clans into agreeing with that little plan!" Madara's voice is steadily rising in volume, all of the pent-up rage and frustration spilling out finally, after weeks of nothing but silence and keeping his distance. Hashirama's skin tingles as the air around them heats up under the influence of Madara's chakra that is sweeping out of his every pore and Hashirama could laugh, that is how grateful he is. It's messed up, he thinks, that this terrifying view makes him happy. But it is how it is.  
This Madara he knows. This Madara he can handle.

The roar that rips from Madara's throat is primal and Hashirama braces himself for the impact.

Hashirama's brain turns on autopilot as he relies on his more animalistic instincts, his movements mirroring his opponent. It's a familiar dance, one he has danced on hundreds of different battlefields and when he's honest with himself, his body has been aching for this. The movements are all still etched into his body's memory, no step unlearned and forgotten, and even if his muscles scream at him to bring an end to this, he keeps going, egged on by the violent elegance of Madara.

This always worked so much better as communication for them, and it's what Madara needs.

The wind is knocked out of him when eventually, Madara manages to throw him to the ground and immediately straddles him, panting and sweating, but triumphant. The ground around them is scorched and the fresh night air has become arid and bites in Hashirama's exhausted lungs, and yet he eagerly sucks it in.

"How could you do that to me?" Madara asks, his voice hoarse after all the screams and accusations, and Hashirama smiles when he realizes how softly Madara speaks.

"I thought it's the right thing" he replies after another gasp as Madara shifts over him. He reaches up to touch the slightly bleeding cheek of his lover, relishing in the touch he has yearned for and in the fact that Madara doesn't pull away.

"You never think it through. But this is the last time I will tolerate it" Madara spits, without any real venom left, and Hashirama eagerly nods. He knows he needs to improve on this, and he knows he never wants to endure this silence again.

Madara sighs, his breathing having calmed, and he settles more comfortably across Hashirama's lap. He grimaces, and droplet of blood drips from his chin onto Hashirama below him. "You're a disgusting pig."

Hashirama merely laughs, against the pain and the exhaustion, and grabs Madara's hips to pull him closer against him. "I've missed you, is that a crime? Besides", he moves his hips deliberately and watches Madara's facial expression twist into one in quickly suppressed pleasure, "you're no better than I."

* * *

Madara comes home with him after this.

None of his clothes are left there, so he has to live with Hashirama's too big sleepwear, but it's manageable. Hashirama loves the sight and is just happy to have Madara back.

"Come on, there's still something left" he calls to his lover and grins when Madara automatically lifts his hand to cover the side of his neck. Laughing quietly, he moves the hand away and places his own there to heal the love bite to retain some discretion the next day. When he pulls away, the skin is pale and adorned only with old scars.

Madara shoots him a half-hearted glare and brushes his hair across his shoulder to hide his neck from view.

"You should've held back, Senju. Or do you want to embarrass us so terribly?" he scolds with irritation plain in his movements, but nothing comparable to the terseness earlier this day, so Hashirama is not too worried.

With a sigh, Madara lets himself fall back onto the bed and crosses his arms in front of his eyes.

"I'm still angry at you."

"I know."

"I'll meet my students tomorrow for the first time."

Hashirama pushes his lethargy aside to sit up straight and peer curiously at Madara who moves his arms only to glare at him. "So you will train them?"

"Not like I have much of a choice" Madara bites back and for a moment his gaze darkens, "I will not let Tobirama use this to frame me is uncooperative and a threat to internal peace. Not again."

"I'm sure you'll do great" Hashirama assures him, even if doubts pop up in his mind as he recalls their battle from earlier. It was tame, but if anything it showed just how deeply this had wounded Madara and that this would not heal so quickly.

"Who are your students, anyway?" he questions when Madara doesn't reply, and the Uchiha snorts. "Haven't you read the handout? I thought you'd be all over it. A Senju, a girl who is possibly a bastard, and a traitor."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know the Senju brat" Madara answers, and his mouth turns to a scowl as if he had tasted something bitter, "but I know the families of the two Uchiha. The girl might be a bastard and has no place playing ninja, and the boy Seiichi is the offspring of one of the men who defected during the war. Cowardice and a lack of loyalty are in his blood."

Hashirama bites his lips as he takes this information in and the doubts grow like weeds, through the cracks of his confidence and his love.

There was a deep resentment hidden in these words, older than this whole mess. Madara has not even trained them once and he already hates them.

"You'll turn them into formidable shinobi, I am convinced" Hashirama lies easily, bows over Madara and kisses him.

He's filled with apprehension when he thinks of the next day, but he cannot lose faith in Madara now. He knows if this goes wrong, the responsibility lies with him, and he'd have nobody else to blame.

So he hopes. That's what he needs.


	2. build-up

**Second chapter!**

 **This one focuses mostly on Seiichi Uchiha, one of Madara's student. He will be our narrator for big parts of this chapter and the next! This chapter will have the first meeting of the new team~**

 **Enjoy, and feedback is appreciated!**

* * *

Seiichi Uchiha awakes feeling nauseous.

He doesn't even remember falling asleep last night, restlessness tingling in his limbs and making him toss and turn as endless possible scenarios of doom ran through his mind and chased away any thought of sleep. Hours of lying around and staring into the darkness apparently had blended in seamlessly into dreamless sleep.

Outside his mother is knocking on the door to his room and his whole body aches with how tired he is. He can't pry his eyes open for more than a second, the sunlight filtering through the window burning in his eyes, and the thought of having to get up to start this horrendous day makes him want to never leave this bed again.

There's a scraping noise as his mother Emi eventually pushes the door open and he senses her crouching down beside his futon.  
"Are you awake, Seiichi?" she whispers, gently touching his shoulder and shaking it slightly. He just grunts in response, making another attempt at opening his eyes. His eyes water as he forces them open, but at least his mother's figure shields him from the sun.

"You're running late" Emi tells him, and his stomach twists at these words. He throws back the covers and tries to sit up, rubbing his face in order to wake himself. He absolutely needs to be on time, he needs to be if he wants to survive this day.

His mother gives him a compassionate smile, before she shuffles out of the room. Shortly after he hears noise in the kitchen. The thought of breakfast makes it a little easier to drag himself out of bed and get dressed, even if his entire body aches in protest, because despite the nausea brought on by anxiety, he's famished and he doubts that will be helpful later on.

Nervously he straightens the fabric of his simple shirt and fastens the sash to ensure it'll stay in place, then he stumbles towards the door and trots towards the kitchen. He's barely set a foot inside when Emi already pushes a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks into his hands and with some confusion he looks around if not maybe he'll have some fish or…anything than just plain rice, and his mother is indeed frying fish, but when he moves to take some of it for himself, she blocks his way.

He furrows his eyebrows and shoots his mother a questioning look, who brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He only notices now that her usually so neatly brushed and styled hair is in a bit of disarray, as if she were just as scatterbrained and nervous as he is today. "It'd be better if you didn't eat too much today, you could throw up" she advises him, her tone apologetic, and her gaze nervously flits through the room. "And you don't have much time. Your uncle will be picking you up in a few minutes."

Seiichi, who has begun to shove the rice into his mouth stilled in his movements and stares at his mother, who fidgets anxiously. Throwing up? And his uncle would be picking him up? The former he maybe should have expected, but the latter is concerning and crushes his barely elevated spirits.

His uncle Nagisa is an intimidating man, with his height, his broader frame, the shaved sides of his skull, and the facial tattoos resembling flames. Nagisa represents the true spirit of Uchiha. Even when Seiichi had been younger and his uncle had been over more frequently, he had avoided him out of fear, not wanting to draw the attention of such a person to him.  
Unlike the rest of the clan, Nagisa had looked down on him from the very beginning.

To hear that he of all people would be accompanying him today is therefore far from good news.

His fear flares up once more and the rice suddenly sticks more to his tongue and throat, as if it were trying to make him choke on it. Still he eats up, resisting the urge to gag against the grains of rice, and hands the bowl back to his mother.

"You'll make it through, I am sure of that" she reassures him and reaches up with her free hand to ruffle his already messy hair in an affectionate gesture.

"Is my baby brother ready for death?" a voice calls out behind Seiichi and his heart jumps in his chest as he whirls around to see his older sister in the doorframe, her long hair unkempt and her eyelids still drooping as if she were half-sleep.

"He won't die, Suzu!" Emi scolds her, but Suzuran merely shrugs and glides past her younger brother to grab a bowl and help herself to some breakfast. She mutters something under her breath that might have been an apology.

With another glare, Emi walks past her and ushers her son towards the entrance way. With every step, reality sinks in deeper, and Suzuran's words keep echoing in Seiichi's mind, ricocheting off the walls of his skull. His mother chatters distractedly as he slowly pulls on his sandals, but the kind words are drowned out by his thoughts, reduced to nothing but background static.

He absently grabs the little pouch attached to his thigh, confirming that it contains the kunai and shuriken he filled it with the night prior, then he reaches for the little bag attached to his sash. Wire, some ointment, an exploding tag. All there.

He exhales heavily.

As the seconds tick by, his skin tingles more and more in anxious anticipation, and he tries to tune in to what his mother is saying to him. Maybe he can find some comfort in that.

But before he manages to do so, there's a single loud knock at their door and Seiichi's heart jumps in his chest.

His mother squeezes his shoulder once before he opens the door with slightly shaking fingers.

And there he is, Uchiha Nagisa.

"Good morning, uncle" Seiichi greets him, daring to look up into Nagisa's face. Nagisa impassively meets his gaze and nods in acknowledgement. "Good morning, Nagisa" says Emi behind him and Nagisa's facial expression shifts only slightly, just a hint of friendliness on the harsh features. "Morning, Emi" he responds lightly, pushing past his nephew to exchange a few words with his sister.

Seiichi watches as the adults speak to each other in hushed, conspiratory voices. Seeing Nagisa interact with his mother is always a bit of an odd sight, considering how dismissively he acts towards the rest of the family. But then, Nagisa's issue has never lied with Emi, but her husband. And thus by extension, his offspring.

It's not fair, thinks Seiichi. It's just not fair.

A scowl makes its way onto his features as he tries to catch a few words of their conversations, and he flinches when suddenly, Nagisa is looking straight at him.

After a pause in which the boy's heart stands still in shock, his uncle merely says "It is time", and directed at Emi he adds "We'll be going then. I'll return him to you once the training is done."

Without sparing his nephew another glance, he turns around and leaves the building, not even bothering to check whether Seiichi follows him.

Seiichi quickly looks over his shoulder to see his mother waving at him, then he quickly tries to catch up to his uncle to not be left behind. There is truly no escape anymore. He cannot weasel his way out of this anymore or pretend he is sick and cannot attend, he will have to join.  
And if he survives, he'll have to go through it again and again.

The thought is incredibly depressing.

In silence, he and his uncle trudge through the streets of the district that is just beginning to rise from its slumber. Few people are out, and besides and old man who's sweeping the streets, nobody seems to pay any attention to them as they walk by. It's eerie and it's almost a relief when they leave the living quarters behind and the road turns into a simple path in the tall grass, if it were not for the fact that this means they are getting closer to their destination and further away from help.

"Seiichi."

The boy's head snaps up as his name is called and with apprehension he peers at the back of his uncle's head, unsure how to react to this.

Nagisa doesn't wait for any response, as simply continues "It was me who signed you up for this."

Seiichi almost stops in his tracks, startled by this new piece of information. Signed him up? He had already wondered about how it could happen that he of all people would be assigned to this, but had eventually settled with the explanation that it had been a randomized process. It also explained how his cousin ended up in this. But this?

"Why that?" he breathes, his fingers trembling once more so he clasps his hands together, hoping intently that this will make them stop shaking.

"You have been avoiding training with the other kids. I tolerated it on the request of your mother, but you should have known that this would eventually catch the attention of the elders. It's bothersome that it was that Senju who approached me, but I took the opportunity to sign you and Amaterasu up" Nagisa explains, his tone as stoic as it ever was in his presence, and Seiichi swallows audibly.  
Of course this would come back to bite him in the ass some day.

An inexplicable anger bubbles up in his chest as he contemplates this; it was not some unfortunate occurrence, not the arbitrary hand of fate that got him stuck in this situation, but his own family. Granted, Nagisa is a special case, but it is still infuriating. If he had been given the choice, he would have gone back to training with the other children, would have endured the dirty looks, but he wasn't even allowed to make this choice for himself.

As if sensing his anger, Nagisa stops dead in his tracks and without warning turns around to face the boy who almost jumps back in surprise at this.  
He shrinks under the intense stare of Nagisa's dark eyes.

"Aren't you sick of this treatment?"

The young Uchiha blinked in confusion at the question. The underlying frustration in Nagisa's usually so flat tone caught him off guard, and he isn't sure he really understands what his uncle is asking of him.

"Aren't you sick of being judged by your father's betrayal?" his uncle rewords himself, seeming impatient at Seiichi's lack of response.

"I am" the boy answers truthfully after recovering and he watches as Nagisa nods. Of course he is sick of it. He remembers when he had been younger and nobody spoke about his father surrendering to the enemy during the war. The alliance was fresh and the peace still so fragile, everyone had been simply relieved to have their loved ones back. Nobody spoke about ostracizing or punishment. The traitors had been accepted back into the clan. It was only with time that the opinion towards them changed.  
And ever since, Seiichi has suffered under the reputation of his father, even after he died for the village.  
Anyone would be sick of that.

"If you are sick of it, you need to take action, boy" Nagisa chides him, an odd glint in his eye that Seiichi can't quite interpret, but the force in Nagisa's voice is enough to make him cower. Never before had they breached this topic, never ever speaks openly about it, as if the silence could cover it up. It is strange to have Nagisa of all people to bring it up.

"If you never make a name for yourself, forsake training, and run away from your own clansmen, you only prove to them that you are a spineless coward" Nagisa continues, "Suzuran will struggle to find a husband because your family will always look at your father instead of you if you stayed this way. I have signed you up to this because it's an opportunity for you and your family, understood?"

Speechless, Seiichi nods as his thoughts and feelings are in turmoil. Before his eyes, the image of his uncle disintegrates and reforms. His anger continues to swirl beneath the surface, not yet pacified, and Nagisa's words stroke a cord with him. A spineless coward. It. Hurts. Even if a part of him knows these words to be true, another part of his feels greatly slighted by this and it makes it difficult to accept the message his uncle tries to convey.

He is to understand this as a chance to redeem himself and his family name, not as a punishment.

Nagisa's burning gaze rests on him a couple more seconds, then he turns around once more and proceeds to stride down the earthen path snaking through the meadow. Seiichi breathes a small sigh of relief.

Perhaps he really should try to view this differently.

Him, a student of no other than the legend Uchiha Madara himself! If he thinks about it this way, it does sound enticing, like something to be proud of.  
The issue is that he is fairly certain he will not live up to the expectations and that this very first training session will also be his last.

He vaguely recalls his clanhead falling out of favor with the rest of the clan in the beginning of this alliance, but his reputation has recovered in recent years. But that he is strict and merciless with his subordinates? That is something that was true then as it is now.  
Is it really so difficult for his uncle to understand why this would terrify him?

They continue to walk in silence as Seiichi broods, until something that Nagisa had said came back to him. He takes a deep breath, then carefully ventures "Why did you sign Amaterasu up then?"

Nagisa's pace remains the same, though he does not answer immediately as if he had to think about this some more.  
"She asked me to" he replies eventually, and Seiichi realized that his uncle would not elaborate on this further after a few seconds.

"Why would she of all people ask for something like this?" Seiichi tries again, feelingly oddly brave now that his uncle had actually bothered to talk to him for once and didn't simply denounce or dismiss him. And he is quite curious to hear the explanation for that. One would think that girl especially would know that the battlefield is no place for a woman.

"Perhaps she feels she has to prove that she's no bastard after all but a true Uchiha?" Nagisa wonders aloud, an amused note to his voice that makes Seiichi wonder just how informed his uncle is of that girl's motives.  
This at least doesn't really seem too plausible. Amaterasu was allowed to carry the Uchiha name, and despite the gossip, she is part of the clan. She's simply putting herself at risk with something like this and it feels almost disrespectful, considering what happened to her mother.

They're nearing the edge of the forest, and Seiichi gulps. He can make out four figures in the clearing up ahead, two short and obviously those of children, the other two adults.  
He's late.

Nagisa quickens his gait and Seiichi follows suit, his breath going more and more ragged the closer they get, stumbling over his own two feet in his hurry. He hasn't even shown up for training yet and he is already embarrassing himself in front of his whole team and his clanhead. And the Hokage, he realizes with a start as he recognizes the other adult figure.

Holy shit. He won't survive this.

By the time they've caught up to the four people, Seiichi's breath is coming in pants. Not due to exhaustion, but to fear.  
The first person to catch his attention is his cousin. Amaterasu stands to his right, back straight and face set in a serious frown, uncharacteristically quiet. She has tied her long hair carefully into a ponytail and has exchanged her usual girly attire to a pair of dark pants and a shirt similar to Seiichi's own. But in spite of the chill of an early morning in spring, hers had its sleeves cut off. Her thin pale arms shake lightly, betraying that she's cold and nervous.

Seiichi lets his gaze travel to the other, taller child who is a stranger to him. Senju Kenma, if he can trust the letter he received. He knows a couple of Senju children, but he's certain he hasn't seen this one around. Broad, round face and dark eyes, head shaved like a monk. He even wears the same solemn look they always do, the resemblance is striking, truly amusing, and it's reassuring to see that Kenma stares right ahead as if looking anywhere else would attract attention. Perhaps saying his prayers.

They're lambs prepared for slaughter.

Their executioner however is hidden from view for Seiichi, as Nagisa stepped forward as soon as they arrived and now appears to be debating something with Madara in a low voice, his shoulders slumping slightly, which is a truly peculiar thing to witness. His uncle bowing his head, even if just a tiny bit, and almost acting as a shield against the glare of the clanhead.

Shodai is watching the exchange too, Seiichi notices after a while. For somebody with such an overwhelming presence, he has managed to keep to the background quite well, but it's hard to ignore him now. He always stands out in a crowd, but never has the boy seen him so close. He would feel incredibly lucky to meet this impressive person if the circumstances were different, though it's eerie how even in this situation, the Hokage's bright smile is calming.  
Seiichi's cheeks burn hot with embarrassment when the man turns his head a little and catches him staring, flashing him a grin in return. Seiichi averts his gaze instantly.  
He'll just look at something else - ah, the texture of this tree over there is particularly intriguing!

He perks up eventually when he hears gravel crunch beneath sandals and he knows that this means the moment has come.

With bated breath he watches Nagisa bow his head, and the words "Alright. This one time" ring out on the little clearing, spoken loud for all of those gathered to hear. It's a familiar voice, dark and raspy from years of breathing fire, of abusing his lungs.  
One day, Seiichi's voice might have that raspy quality to it as well.

Nagisa finally leaves, the last bit of protection he had against the glare of one Uchiha Madara.

It's not that Seiichi has never seen his clanhead before; that would be a little strange if he had not come across him once in his twelve years of living, and he's even seen him glare before. But never had Seiichi been the source of Madara's irritation so never before had he felt what it was like when it was you fixed by those eyes.

Seiichi wanted to meet his look head-on, show that he's not a coward so this impression Madara must have of him is proven wrong, but suddenly he feels like a rabbit facing a predator, all escape roots cut off and body pushed past its limits and too exhausted to run. He simply freezes on the spot.

Ashamed of himself, the boy lowers his eyes.

"Your uncle has taken the responsibility for your tardiness. Do not let this happen again" Madara addresses him and guilt trickles into Seiichi's mind on top of everything else. His uncle received the reprimanding intended for him, and his first impression was that of a slacker.  
Wonderful.

A second passes, and suddenly Seiichi feels like it is much easier to breathe, like there is no longer something constricting his lungs or like there is something distasteful lodged in his throat. His insides still feel all tied up, but the tense atmosphere seems like it dissipated just the smallest bit. Madara is no longer focused on just him.

"With some delay, it is time we begin" Madara begins and did Kenma just let out a quiet whimper, or was this merely in Seiichi's imagination? Or did he himself make that noise?

Madara opens his mouth again as if to say something, but he seems to change his mind on what to say after glancing once to the side where the Hokage still stands. The Uchiha momentarily frowns in what seems like annoyance, then requests that they introduce themselves.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Seiichi sees Shodai smile.

Kenma's introduction is given in a subdued and soft tone that doesn't quite match his taller frame, though his voice seems so dispassionate, in line his still nearly indifferent facial expression instead.  
Seiichi catches himself mimicking the tone as he gives his name and age, as he mentally _chants don't trip over your words, don't trip over your words, don't trip over your words_. He's out of breath again when he finishes, palms sweating and his limbs feeling stiff and tingly while he feels ready to puke, but when he looks at Madara, he isn't even paying attention to him anymore. His eyes are directed at Amaterasu who straightens a little more, her limbs trembling more than before. She speaks with that annoyingly arrogant tone that borders on aggressive as she introduces herself, and unlike Seiichi, she does stumble over her words in her hurry to get them out. Perhaps she has more to fear than Seiichi himself, as a girl and the youngest of this team.  
They may only be a few months apart in age, but he has to admit that 11 sounds a lot more vulnerable than 12.

Madara mutters something to himself that sounds like "Now that this is over with…" and he whistles, the loud and sudden noise cutting through the windless air. Confused and alarmed, the three children look around to see just what exactly their new teacher had summoned, but they can't spot anything. Nothing around them moved, and even the sky above them is a clear pale blue sky without even a bird circling above them.

Their mentor however doesn't seem concerned by this lack of consequence, merely impatient, if the way he crosses his arms in front of his chest is anything to go by. Seiichi has heard people say that Madara carries his heart on his sleeve too much sometimes, but he rather feels like he is difficult to decipher. He hasn't reacted much at all to any of them; does this just mean that he finds them too uninteresting to waste another second on?

It takes another second until they pick up the rustling of leaves nearby, and without warning, a sleek gray cat emerges from a bush behind Madara and approaches them instead of moving away from a human gathering, it even dares to rub against Madara's leg. The Uchiha leader proceeds to pick it off the ground, allowing the animal to climb on his shoulder and look down at the students before him.

It isn't a pretty feline, Seiichi notes. It has a triangular head with a rather long and straight snout, the short gray fur is patterned with darker stripes, and a pair of large green eyes peers at the children curiously. The boy doesn't understand what the point of this is, but he doesn't dare to ask, waiting anxiously for Madara to reveal to them just what the agenda for this training session will be. This day is already nerve-wracking, he would like to face his death now because he's starting to get the feeling that the wait is worse than whatever could choose to throw at them.

"This is Momo" Madara explains as he points at the cat on his shoulders, "to test your individual skill levels and your group work, I will release her into this part of the forest. The area is limited and you will find there is a fence further in. It will be your objective to… catch her."

Seiichi can't help but stare at his clan leader.

Chasing a cat?

Seriously?

That is… anticlimactic. Disappointing, almost. No grueling exercises to improve stamina, no target practice, no brutal hand to hand combat training? Maybe he's lucky for this, or maybe this just means Madara does not have any hopes for them in the first place.

Momo meanwhile stares at them for another second, before she gracefully leaps off Madara's shoulder and hightails into the forest, quickly disappearing from view.

Silently, they expectantly looked back at their teacher to give them the signal to chase after the feline, but Madara raised his hand to stop them from charging ahead.

"You will not leave this forest before you have captured Momo, even if it takes all day. And do not make the mistake of underestimating this task" Madara said, the underlying warning making Seiichi's skin crawl, "it is not as easy as it may seem to you. There are traps of many kinds in the forest and you should be careful not to trigger them."

Now that is more like what Seiichi had expected. Chasing them through dangerous traps, the joy. It is still difficult for him to think of this as such a monumental mission; he's chased and caught cats before and while scratches are always something to look out for, it is definitely doable. Just the traps, those worry him.

Finally Madara steps aside, granting them entrance into the forest.

Despite the cold, Seiichi's skin itches terribly from the sudden beads of sweat running down his face and neck.

Filled with apprehension, Seiichi exchanges a look with Kenma who takes the first step. Seiichi follows in his steps reluctantly, sensing Amaterasu's presence just behind him as one by one, they are swallowed by the dark forest.

He needs to keep telling himself that he's not alone, and that if the worst case occurs, there will at least be a legendary medic to aid them.

* * *

Hashirama's heart bleeds for these children as they disappear in the forest.

"You're being unfair" he says to his lover, who seems quite pleased with himself.

"Unfair?" Madara inquires as he walks towards Hashirama, an eyebrow cocked even though he likely knows exactly what Hashirama is referring to. He's simply infuriating this way, and Hashirama has to admit that it's an almost seductive trait at times. Not now, when he's busy being worried about these kids, but other times. Now is not the appropriate time for such sentiments.

"You didn't inform them properly" Hashirama elaborates to play along and glances at the space where the three young shinobi had entered the training area, "you didn't tell them it's a ninneko they're chasing."

"Aa, they'll discover this soon enough" Madara shrugs it off and sits down on the ground next to Hashirama. He'd gotten up incredibly early for his standards in order to make some last adjustments to the training course he prepared and even if he had not let it show in the presence of the children, he is probably incredibly tired. The emotional exertion of the evening the other day alone would have been enough to get him into a state of exhaustion, the physical strain and the sleep deprivation certainly didn't help.  
Sympathetically, Hashirama follows suit and plops down as well.

"Does your head hurt?" he inquires, and Madara shakes his head.  
"I just need a minute" he responds dismissively, yet Hashirama doesn't miss the way his eyes droop, threatening to fall shut.

The Senju shuffles a little closer and as he'd hoped, after a while Madara gives in and rests his head on Hashirama's shoulder, a comfortable warmth spreading in Hashirama's body at the trusting gesture, held only at bay by that little needle of fear and doubt. Again, he looks over to the forest.

"How long do you think it'll take them?"

Madara yawns and settles more heavily on his lover.

"Long enough for me to take a nap."


End file.
